Draconis
by 1angelette
Summary: During DH, a thunderstorm at the Burrow and Buffy the Vampire Slayer DVDs result in Draco becoming... his fanon self. Watch as he and Ginny flirt madly with the line between in-and-out of character -- as well as each other.
1. Shuffle the Deck, which is missing cards

**(A/N: Hello, hello, hello, and welcome all to my very first ever PARODY FIC! I have to warn you, this baby's gonna be loooooong. You'd better be ready for lots of snark and lots of "eventual"-ness! Also, visit** Mintaka the Comedienne**, my incredibly amazing beta reader. Triple props! Now, without further ado...)**

DRACONIS: A SATIRE

Chapter One: The Accident

--

It was a box.

About a foot tall, wide, and long, with a thin beige casing and a shiny but opaque panel on the side facing. It sat on an odd pedestal instead of just being on the table, and attached was a sort of flattened thing that looked like a typewriter. Nearby was an odd object which was a similar beige to the casing, but had a few squares on it and a gray bump.

Ginny doubted that that this thing could have any purpose, and told her father so. Arthur laughed and placed a hand on his daughter's shoulder.

"It's much more useful than it appears, Ginny! This pomcooter can…. can… Well, I'm not exactly sure what it does, but Muggles use it on a daily basis so it must be good for, er, something…" He made some desperate movements with his hands, but they didn't really help.

"Weren't we supposed to start with television?" Ginny asked. That seemed to be an easier beginning; she had heard Hermione talk call it as "the idiot box," so that was likely going to be easier to understand.

"Now, now," Arthur chided, "just try it."

Ginny sighed and sat down, after which her father pressed a button which caused the screen to light up. There was a blue background and assorted colorful icons upon it along the left side, arranged in a neat little column. Ginny put her hands on the table to look at it, but one hand brushed against the odd object sitting by the letterboard and caused a hitherto unnoticed little white arrow on the screen to move.

"Oh! That's the mouse, dear," Arthur pointed out. "You can move it about and 'click' on things."

Surpressing a snide comment about how bad Muggles were at naming things, Ginny moved the arrow about randomly for a little bit until she got the hang of choosing where she wanted it to go and pressed one of the buttons. An odd grey rectangle with several lines of text appeared.

"Try the other button," Mr. Weasley said patiently.

--

Over the next couple days, Ginny got the hang of using the computer. It took a while, but she started to get attached to its unintuitive idiosyncrasies, most especially the Internet.

The _Internet_. It was like she'd heard smoking to be described like: It was only an irritant at first, but pulled you in the more you tried it, and eventually you couldn't live without it. She obtained a Yahoo! Mail address, membership at a funny new thing called Xanga, all sorts of registrations at forums she forgot about next week. However, her most interesting discovery was when she stumbled upon a little site called .

Ginny frowned at the categories: Anime, Books, Cartoons, Comics, Games, Misc., Movies, and TV. What was this "anime"? Wasn't cartoon another word for comic? What did games have to do with movies or comic books? Why did they have to differentiate between movies and TV?

Sighing, Ginny decided to stick with the website and clicked on the only category which held no mysteries for her: "Books." Once the page loaded, she was greeted by a collection of bright blue links with a list of book titles, a few of which she recognized as they were classics. However, one pair of words caught her eye: _Harry Potter_.

Next to it was a number in parentheses somewhere in the latter half of 300,000, but Ginny ignored this and followed the link of her semi-boyfriend's name. (She could never figure out whether Harry fell into the "ex-boyfriend" or "boyfriend" category. On the one hand, it was difficult to be a person's girlfriend if one hadn't seen him for six months and they had technically broken up; on the other, she and Harry still treated each other as if they were together. It was rather confusing and could sometimes keep her wondering late into the night.)

What appeared was a list of stories and an array to the northeast corner of purple boxes, but these Ginny ignored, opting to let her mouth drop on reading the list of stories.

A few stories involved mysterious names she had never heard and, interestingly enough, summaries that sounded like rather good literature. These, however, were in the minority. More prevalent were misspelled, improperly capitalized explorations of all sorts of characters in manners that Ginny really would have preferred not to read – why would Snape wonder who the _father_ of his daughter was? There was a confusing pair of tales involving Cedric Diggory in love, (again with somebody she'd never seen in Hogwarts) which seemed rather schematically difficult to Ginny considering that Cedric was rather dead. Remus Lupin was inexplicably leaving the magical world and at the same time allowing Tonks to angst endlessly over him, besides being mysteriously in love with Sirius Black. And she _really_ didn't want to know what "Harry and Draco … future yaoi!" meant.

As she read through more of the fics, things slowly began to make more sense. These stories were written to fill a gap: The writers had written every single possible idea (and quite a few impossible ones) when it came to stories featuring Ron and Hermione bickering into love; Harry and Hermione seriously disturbing any reader who valued reality; Draco and Hermione hooking up more times than the average person could count; and a surprisingly large amount of Harry and Draco fics. And that wasn't mentioning an uncomfortably high amount of stories involving Snape, Voldemort, and unrecognized girls whose names seemed suspiciously similar to that of the author.

Surprisingly, Ginny found that _she_ actually turned up once or twice per page (at most). More often than not, it had to do with Harry; that was no surprise. Her rare but gripping encounters with fics putting her with Draco, however, were.

It was odd, really; she was blushing at Harry, being snogged by Malfoy, or suffering under the influence of Tom Marvolo Riddle. With most of the other people she knew, there were at least a few fics where they were just saving the world or something, but fics in the aforementioned three veins were almost all she could find. Eventually Ginny stopped going to that site in general because of how darn creepy it was whenever she saw herself in fiction, regardless of a role; but she never got around to removing the bookmark in her browser.

That would be something she'd thank herself for later.

--

When the holidays were two thirds of the way through, Arthur came home with a little television and a set of what Ginny later learned were called "deevedees".

By way of extension cord, Arthur set up the box in a little-used room of the house and connected it to his generator in the shed. There was also a silver box attached to the television, which they were supposed to put the DVDs into.

"Look, Ginny! I got a fellytision for us to watch! And tapes of this fellytision fshow!"

And so it was that the Weasley father and daughter began to watch _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_. They watched rapturously as the complex story; they laughed at the witty lines; they sat on the edge of their seats during the fights; and cried when Buffy lost it to Angel.

"This show has crossed that certain line! This is why so many other wizards complain about Muggle promiscuity!" Arthur cried.

Ginny was sobbing too, although for different reasons. She was, for one thing, emotionally unsettled by the scene, but also, a part of her was feeling sorry for Spike. Ginny didn't know why, and she wouldn't for a long time, but there was something oddly compelling about his character. Spike's wit was sharp, his story fascinating, and, of course, his looks good. Something odd swelled inside Ginny every time he and Buffy fought hand-to-hand, or yelled at eachother, or whatever it was when they interacted.

In the case of around the fifth case of DVDs, that something was triumph.

"You have a heart, Spike."

"Ewwwww."

"And it's in love with Buffy Summers."

"EWWWWWWW!"

Ginny grinned and pumped her fists in the air.

--

"I touch the fire and it freezes me—"

"I died—"

"I look into it and it's black—"

"So many years ago—"

Dun-dun-dun-dun-dun-dun-dun…

"This isn't real—"

"You can make me feel—"

"But I just need to feel…"

Dun, dun, dun… Spike and Buffy were coming closer and closer – their bodies were touching – the music swelled – Buffy's head was already tilted up to meet Spike's—

And then the TV chose this excellent moment to turn itself off. This was accompanied by a roll of thunder and flash of lightning.

Arthur was fascinated by this event. "Interesting! I've never had experience with the Muggle phenomenon of occasionally being without eckletricity!"

His daughter, on the other hand, had a much less jovial reaction. "No! No! I want to see them _kiss_!"

"Now, now, Ginny, I'm sure they will once the eckletricity comes back."

The girl was not placated. She decided to take a walk outside to calm her raging nerves. As soon as Ginny stepped outside the door, however, she heard a horrible scream.

It was a horrendous, bloodcurdling wail that would have given Grace Poole's cries a serious run for their money. Ginny's heart was unsettled by the degree of human suffering that would cause such an awful noise, and decided to seek its maker out.

She found the source curled up miserably whimpering in a nearby thicket, and he looked oddly familiar. The thin, pointy quality of his face; his lack of stature; his oddly pale skin. However, Ginny was caught off-guard by his silver hair.

Hair. That was silver. It was like watching how this guy ought to look in about eighty years, only he wasn't wrinkly or suffering from arthritis. His hair was also rather unusually long, granting him a rather effeminate appearance.

Suddenly he cried out again. "No, no, no! There is no '-nis' on the end of my name and there never will be! It's just Draco!"

Draco. "_Malfoy_?" Ginny wondered out loud. What could he be doing here? And what was with his hair?

The boy in question twitched on the ground. Lightening struck somewhere else and thunder rolled again. Malfoy wailed. Ginny rolled her eyes. What was _wrong_ with him?

Well, even though he was an enormous git, she couldn't just leave him there. But how would her dad react if she came in with a boy late at night?

Exactly. To the local hospital? No, when he woke up there was a chance he would try to kill the Muggles there – what had he been doing here, anyway? And besides, what was wrong with him? There was the silver hair, of course, but besides that he appeared to be his usual pale, skinny, ferretesque self. So why did she feel that her help was needed?

Ginny sighed. This was pathetic. She was about to stay out here all night – for some stupid little petty jerk – who might not even have anything wrong with him – in the middle of winter – and this country was on the same latitude as Siberia—

That son of a bitch would owe her big time when he came to.

--

"When he came to" was in fact after Ginny succumbed to sleep at one in the morning, as well as before she woke up. When she did awaken, somebody's hand was holding hers. Ginny rapidly opened her eyes.

"Let _go_ of my hand, Malfoy!" she cried, rapidly drawing her hand out of his – for of course, it was his. Or was it? It was of course a pale hand attached to a pale arm attached to a presumably pale shoulder and a thin neck and a pointy face, but that mysterious silver hair was still there…

"Sweet, dearest, prettiest love?"

…and now it was accompanied by some sort of personality transplant.

"Since when have I ever been seen by you as 'sweet,' 'dear,' or 'love'?" Ginny rapidly moved away from Malfoy, who had the oddest expression on his face.

"You really don't remember the details of that interesting night in detention?" Ginny had exactly enough time to notice that his voice was much crisper and his smirk rather snarkier before, without any warning, he kissed her.

His kiss was like having oxygen cut off from your brain and being struck by lightning as well as drowning, although much more pleasent. Most predominant, however, was the lightning. Electricity surged through her veins, sparks besieged her cell walls, and no matter how loudly her mind was saying "Malfoy plus kiss equals _get the dickens away from me, you creep!_", she couldn't move.

"Yup," Malfoy said when he finally took his mouth off hers. "You still remember that night so very, very well, don't you, Gin."

Ginny was trying to regain her breath, inhaling and exhaling desperately. "What…" she managed, "…the bloody hell… are you _talking _about?"

Malfoy laughed. "You're an impetuous girl with a brilliant poker face, Ginny. Of course, that's what I like about you."

The impetuous girl (an accurate but incorrectly used description) scowled and slapped him hard. "Sod off, Malfoy." On saying this, Ginny was slightly relieved. This was almost herself again.

--


	2. Ante, and NOT Auntie Bellatrix

Chapter Two: The Jonas Brothers

**(A/N: Hello again, all two of my non-beta readers. You know, I really would love to get a review from one of you non-USA people out there. I apparently have traffic from the United Kingdom, Germany (those first two have the most), Israel, the Phillippines, Brazil, New Zealand, and Australia, but not a single review from any of those countries. Sigh.**

**Anyway, something I forgot in the first chapter: The big honking DISCLAIMER! Here it comes…**

_**I do not own any of the following properties:**_

**- Any and all characters and situations originating from **_**Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows**_**, HBP, &c.**

**- Buffy the Vampire Slayer (For the record, in chapter one, the bit where Buffy and Spike talk is actual text from the show. The bit where Spike says "EWWW!" has been adapted from it. I have never seen BTVS, but do have a dim idea of how unworthy I am to profane it with uncredited stealing; at least I have the audacity to admit that.)**

**- The Draco Trilogy (who would **_**want**_** to be responsible for such dreck?)**

**- The Jonas Brothers (bless their immature, untalented souls), or, more specifically, the lyrics from their hit single, **"Burnin' Up"**.**

**- Twilight (which isn't actually used like the other things in this list, but is totally awesome and did provide much inspiration).**

**Without further ado… Lights! Camera! Satire!)**

Chapter Two: The Jonas Brothers

Thoughts of Malfoy's inexplicable kiss, for the most part, left Ginny alone. It was as if it had been a dream, one of the ones which you think about very hard when you wake up so you don't forget it, and yet you don't actually think about it afterwards. But sometimes, it sneaks up on you just when you least expect it: "What is this breakfast in comparison to a meal on the _Starship Enterprise_?" Or, in Ginny's case, "How can I put my toothbrush where Malfoy's tongue's been?"

These thoughts were rather unsettling, so Ginny tried to ignore them. It wasn't that hard to distract herself, because the train going back to Hogwarts left today. She had to track down that accursed winter cloak and all three of her pointed black hats – the winter cloak Ginny could understand, but the hats? Only first years actually wore those. Some called first-years "pointies" because of how distinguishable they were by those hats. It was one of those ideas that Muggles got about witches (and wizards) that didn't turn out to be true at all.

Distracted by these trains of thought, before she knew it Ginny was embracing her parents good-bye and getting on the train to Hogwarts. Oh, joy, _Hogwarts_.

Four months ago, that statement's sarcastic spin would have been much less sinister than it was now. Back then, Hogwarts was a threat only as an alternative to the dreamy days of summer. Besides, it was sure to be safer than the family home of multiple members of the Order of the Phoenix, not to mention the occasional dwelling of Harry Potter himself.

Unfortunately, she turned out to be ridiculously wrong about that.

The moment she stepped back inside the Great Hall on September 1st, Ginny had known something was wrong. She wasn't sure, thinking about it now, what the strongest indicator had been. Was it Snape in the headmaster's position at the High Table? The presence of two new faces alongside him that distinctly reminded her of the Lestranges? No, no. It was the ridiculously smug expression on almost every Slytherin's face.

Or maybe it was the peculiarly high amount of pointies sorted into Slytherin. Then again, those things were probably related. (Not to mention that the Slytherins themselves were probably related.)

Ginny didn't know why so many Slytherins were outright sinister, but it seemed to be a fact. They weren't _all_ mean, but there was something about them – very few of them regarded Ginny kindly. She didn't quite understand it. Some of them had to get into that house on basis of personality, and not just blood, right?

Ginny said something along these lines to Luna while they were walking to a shared class together, but her only response was "Sinister meant left in mediaeval heraldry. Three of the six Slytherins I've gotten to know somewhat well are left-handed."

Ah, Luna. Her friendship had become more precious than ever to Ginny during that horrible first term, and she found herself appreciating Neville more. The Carrows were torturing the three of them left and right, but the D.A., Ginny liked to think, was even better than it had been back when Harry, Ron, and Hermione had been running it. All three of them were teaching instead of just Harry…

Harry. Ginny straightened up in her seat. Something was wrong about how she thought that. After a moment, she recognized that it was the lack of emotion she felt at saying his name inside her head. The usual strain of her heart, mental sigh, and pleasant tingle were entirely missing, as was the concern for his life that had, in recent times, accompanied them. Her beautiful memories of the time during her fourth year – the year where she tried to fall out of love with Harry and then fell in love with him again – and of her precious few moments with him this summer were suddenly rather blurry in her mind, and the recollection of fifth year, where her status as "Harry Potter's Girlfriend" involved less contact with him than she'd had the previous year, was becoming oddly clear.

Her mindset about Harry was normal this time yesterday, so something had to have changed between then and now. Maybe it was—

"Ginny! There you are!"

She looked up to see Neville and Luna, he with a grin and she smiling slightly, as she always did. "Neville! Luna! I've missed you!"

"Oh, it's wonderful that you're still alive," Luna said. "I was worried for a moment that the Heliopaths had burnt you over the holiday. How ironic that would have been…"

--

The threesome cheerily chattered for a few hours, breaking only for some sweets from the trolley and the complications when Neville tried to get Trevor to leap two meters and the toad ended up leaping off to heaven-knew-where for the next thirty minutes.

After they sat down, Neville hunched over a little and his tone was serious. "Luna, Ginny, I think we should steal the sword of Gryffindor."

"Hmmm," Luna said absently. "That sounds a bit impractical. We don't want to kill anyone—"

"How," Ginny interrupted, "will we ever get inside the office without getting caught by Snape and getting more detention with–" she paused to shudder here, "the _Carrows_? We'll probably be in chains until the next holiday if we get caught."

"Well," Neville said, "I think we should go for it during the Seventh-Year Pub Crawl."

Luna nodded in an oh-that-explains-it sort of way and started to stare absently out the window, but Ginny was shocked. "The _Pub Crawl__? _What are you talking about?"

Neville blinked at her confusedly and Luna turned back from the window to look at her in a slightly disapproving manner. "The Pub Crawl?" she said. "You haven't heard of the Pub Crawl?"

"Yeah," Neville said. "Every year, the seventh-years go off to every pub in Hogsmeade and get as drunk as possible."

"We… have a Pub Crawl…" Ginny repeated skeptically. What was going on? She had never heard of the Pub Crawl in all her previous years at Hogwarts,

"Uhuh…" Neville said. He was very confused now, and his statement seemed like more of a question. "There's always been one."

Ginny suddenly realized that she was very, very wrong – or else, something else was very, very wrong.

She suspected it was the same thing that had vanished away—

"Well, if it isn't the Silver Trio!" somebody said from the doorway of their compartment. The three turned and looked to see Malfoy standing there. He scowled. "Although it's more an Aluminum Trio."

_Youkisseddracomalfoylastnightyoukisseddracomalfoylastnightyoukisseddracomalfoylastnight, youkissedhimyoukissedhimyoukissedhim; and what's more, you _liked_ it, you little tart—_

"Weasley? Weasley? Heavens, Loony's rubbing off on you… Hahaha!"

That snapped her out of it. "Well, if she is, at least it's not the only thing she's capable of doing, unlike you."

Malfoy frowned for the couple of seconds it took him to digest this, but then glared at Ginny. "Oh, that is _such_ mature humor, you—"

Their gazes met, and for a single horrifying moment of silence, Ginny could have sworn that his eyes pulsed a bright, crystalline blue; but then the moment passed, and they were the same drab gray color they had always been.

"I think you made your point, Draco," some unrecognized Slytherin behind Malfoy said, and he and the other boys with him left.

"I don't think it was very nice for him to enter our compartment without asking," Luna said.

--

They got to Hogwarts.

Of course they got to Hogwarts. What would stop them from getting to Hogwarts or pacing angrily in corridors after sunset on their way to the dorm? The thought was inexplici-

Wait. Inexplicable. What was that again…?

_Youkisseddracomalfoylastnightyoukisseddracomalfoylastnightyoukisseddracomalfoylast—_

"Shut _up_!" Ginny shouted at her mind. A nearby young student cried out and ran away rapidly, while Ginny scowled.

"Somebody isn't very happy today," a voice that was almost entirely unfamiliar said from somewhere behind her.

"Oh, really?" Ginny snapped as she turned around to see who it was. "Did you figure that out all by yourse–"

Her voice stopped. Her turning stopped. For a second or two, she even thought her heart stopped. Then her brain un-stopped and it occurred to Ginny that maybe the young man in front of her looked a little like Malfoy, but he was in reality the one who had kissed her last night. Huh. They were different people? That, if true, was relieving. Perhaps this would stop her mind from always going–

_Youkisseddracomalfoylastnightyoukisseddracomalfoylastnightyoukisseddracomalfoylastnightyoukissed—_

Damn.

Malfoy stepped closer to her, and a shiver ran down Ginny's spine. But she needed to get a hold of herself. She took her wand out of her pocket. "What's wrong with you, Malfoy? Bugger yourself out of here. Now!" Her wand shook a bit, but was firmly pointed at Malfoy. But why couldn't she cast a damn hex already? She tried as hard as she could to say some incantation – think it, even, hard as that was – but couldn't.

Malfoy laughed a bit and moved to her again, gently placing his hand on top of hers and moving it down to her side. The contact came with a spark of static electricity. "You see, Gin, you need somebody to sing. To lift your spirits. To explain to you that…"

"…That…?" Ginny found herself asking in spite of herself.

The wand fell onto the floor, forgotten.

"That…" Malfoy looked right into her eyes and grinned in the sexiest way she'd ever seen. _"I'm hot!"_

"Wait, _what_? No, you're not!" Ginny backed away hurriedly. Why was she so scared?

"_You're cold!"_

"What the—"

"_You go around/like you know!"_

"Know what—" Ginny was becoming concerned.

"_Who I am!"_

"Draco Malfoy, who else?"

_"But you don't!"_

"That would explain a lot." Damn, she was still held in place. Why couldn't she stop this banter, pick up her wand, hex the living daylights out of him, and be on her merry way to bed?

_"You've got me on my _toes_."_ On the last word, Draco's fingertips brushed against hers, and Ginny was inexplicably reminded of the time her fingers had completed a circuit of her father's carrying at least a hundred volts.

"_I'm slipping into the lava!"_

"I wish—" She was almost letting herself slip into the routine: Take his musically-made assertion, find something witty or angry to say back, but don't under any circumstances actually move, because that would mean moving, which she couldn't seem to do.

"_And I'm trying to keep from going under! Baby, who turned the temperature hotter?"_

"You did _not_ just call me that!"

_"Cause I'm burning up, burning up…"_

"Why…?"

Suddenly Malfoy took both of her hands, singing, _"for you, baby."_

There was a brief instrumental (From _where?_ Ginny wondered) with lots of headbanging, and then Malfoy said, "C'mon, girl!" and twirled her about by one hand.

"_I fell!"_ he continued, taking her other hand again and pulling her back and forth, _"so fast!"_

"Yeah, right," she weakly said.

"_Can't hold myself…"_ Malfoy paused to sweep her into his arms. _"Back. High heels…"_

"Not caught dead," Ginny countered without missing a beat. For some reason, she couldn't struggle out of his embrace. This whole body-not-responding thing was one of the strangest things she had ever felt.

"_Red dress!"_

"Doesn't match!"

"_All by yourself!"_

"Yeah, you'd like to see that," she snidely snapped.

"_Gotta catch my breath!" _Unexpectedly, Draco let go of her, and then put his hand on his heart as he continued to sing._ "I'm slipping into the lava."_

"Oh, goodie."

_"'n I'm trying to keep from going under!"_

"'n? That's really classy."

"_Baby, who turned the temperature higher?"_

"Not baby again…"

_"'Cause I'm burning up, burning up for you, baby!"_

Malfoy suddenly fell into an irritating falsetto. _"Walk into the room… All I can see… is you!"_

"We're in a hallway, not a room."

"_Oh! Staring me down… I know you feeeel it too."_ He stroked her neck suddenly, and Ginny reflexively slapped his hand. She was starting to get bored and really wished that this would end already.

"_I'm slipping into the lover!"_

"Wait, did you just say—"

"_And I'm trying to keep from going under! Baby, you turn temperatures hotter!"_

"What was wrong with the old chorus?"

_"'Cause I'm burning up – burning _up_! – for you, babe, eh!"_

She must have blinked, because suddenly Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott were behind Malfoy, and… _"We're burning up in the place tonight,"_ Goyle rapped,_ "gotta sing it loud—"_

"_Gonna feel it right!" _the other three Slytherins sang.

_The world has gone batshit insane,_ Ginny thought with absolute certainty.

"_Um, go on and dance, don't try and fight it; I'm… for real…?"_

_"And that's no lie!"_ Zabini and Nott shouted.

_"Stop, drop, and roll."_

"Is the lame Muggle response." Zabini said. Malfoy discreetly punched him.

_"Keeps on burnin' up more and more!"_ Goyle and Malfoy sang.

"Did a two-year-old write these lyrics?" Nott wondered.

_"I got JB with me."_

"Wait, what the hell?" Zabini and Nott said together, suddenly ceasing to participate in the trendy dance moves.

_"Now come on, boys, bring the… something… around." _

_"I'm slippin' into the lava!"_ Malfoy sang.

"_Uh…" _Goyle said.

_"And I'm tryin' to keep from going under!"_

He grinned beautifully.

"_Baby, who tuned the temperature hotter!"_

"It's almost over!" Zabini said to Nott.

"_Cause I'm burnin' up, burnin' up for you, baby!"_

_"Burnin' up, burning up," the other two reluctantly semi-sang._

"_For you, baby,"_ Draco finished.

And before Ginny had time to feel relieved, or realize that she could move again, he kissed her.

It wasn't that surprising, this time. Ginny later figured she'd subconsciously been expecting it. However, she didn't actually think that at the moment, as the only thought running through her mind was _Dracomalfoyiskissingyoudracomalfoyiskissingyouyouareallowingyourselftobekissedby_dracoeffingmalfoy…

This was going to become a problem if she let it go on.

Or if she didn't.

--


	3. Deal, with it, you emo ponce

**(A/N: It has been forever, I know. This is because, you see, I had finished this chapter something like six months ago, but then decided that it was horrible and shoved it beneath the bed. I apologize. NOTE: When Draco and Ginny say there is plagiarism, it is not a lie; there is actual plagiarism. The first time, it is the title of a book by Louise Rennison, the ninth in her Confessions of Georgia Nicoleson series. The other two are quotes from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I also have to give my thanks to the Google search engine, which generated BTVS quotes for me, and Mintaka the Comedienne again, because without her this chapter would still be beneath my bed as mentioned above. Frankly, I wonder if it would be better off that way. Now, without further ado...)**

Chapter Three: The Introduction

"Amy, if you don't stop cursing that kid so he 'understands the technique,' I am not responsible for the consequences."

Ginny cringed a little inside as she shouted these suicidal words, but smirked at her version of the Dark Arts teacher's name. (Everybody called it Dark Arts nowadays. The name was technically "Offense Against the Dark Arts", but nobody knew what it meant.) Her outburst had the desired effect: Professor Carrow lowered his wand from its position towards the poor child and looked at her instead.

"Weasley, how many times have you questioned my teaching methods?"

"Twenty-seven," Luna said.

Professor Carrow glared a little at Luna, but then turned back to Ginny. "And how many times have I given you the Cruciatus curse for doing so?"

"Twenty-eight," Ginny grumbled.

"Exactly. Now, stay right where you are…"

"_Locomotor ornatus penknives_!" Luna whispered, holding her wand beneath the desk. Neville's knives floated out of her bag and dispersed themselves over all of the classroom's desks – teacher's included. **"D,"** they carved. "_A_…"

Carrow took a moment to remember all the reasons why the insolent girl deserved this, just to be sure that the spell would work.

_"Meeting…"_

"_Crucio!"_

_"2mRO…"_

Ginny screamed. (Writing anything more than "Ginny screamed" would be a futile attempt to describe the anguish of her cries, the woe that most of her classmates felt at her plight, and the sheer pain of that spell which, fortunately, none of the readers shall ever experience. _Really_ futile.) 

"…_nite!!!"_

"_Accio penknives_," Luna said, and the knives all rushed back to her desk.

---

As Ginny walked, she kept her head down to conceal the grin on her face. Her body was still racked with pain, but the look on Carrow's face had been totally worth it. Anybody who had actually seen her grin probably would have been crept out, like that little kid who jumped away when she said "shut up" last night.

Wait, last night. Why was she suddenly feeling like that would become relevant again? Ginny wondered for a second. Then she felt her hand being picked up, and she looked down to see Draco Malfoy – a stunningly silvery, shockingly attractive Draco Malfoy – kneeling in front of her, kissing her hand.

Well. Her hunch was right.

"Virginia…" He kissed her wrist and then her forearm.

"Ginevra!" Ginny snapped, jerking her hand away.

"Virginia…" Draco repeated, rising and pressing his lips to her neck.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" She ran to the other side of the corridor, but he followed her.

"Oh," Malfoy said. "I forgot to introduce myself." His voice suddenly actually sounded aristocratic as opposed to just bratty, and the arrogant edge had been worn away.

"I already know your name!" Ginny was shaking a little; she was feeling hot under the collar. "Draco Malfoy! And you have no reason to be hanging around me so much! You're a bully, and furthermore you hate me! And I hate you!"

"Draconis," he said.

"What?" Ginny was caught off guard.

"Draconis," he repeated. "Draconis Abraxas Malfoy, right foot of the Dark Lord, prince of Slytherin house, heir to a billion and one galleons, and the sexiest wizard in Europe, at your service."

"…What?"

"I'm _Draconis_," Draconis said, his sibilant voice acquiring a harsh note of irritation. "You do recall when lightening struck that house of yours, yes?"

"Uhuh.." Ginny skeptically blinked.

"Well, Buffy the Vampire Slayer was on, and I was within a 200-mile radius. So I became a vampire." Draconis frowned. "Or a werewolf." He furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head. "Or maybe a veela."

Ginny gave up all semblance of pretending to understand what he was talking about and leaned against the wall. She was feeling very sleepy.

"And if you ever saw me in the sunlight, I would sparkle, but you can't, because, well, I don't show up then. That's Draco in the sunlight."

Her mind somehow managed to latch on to something. "Wait. Speaking of names, why did you call me Virginia?"

Draconis smiled. "It's fanon, darling. That's what binds this whole operation together. Without it, I'd be that spineless loser you know and hate. The technical explanation involves a several-minute lecture about psychology, literature, ginger discrimination, lunar phases, and infinite improbability. I'd be smart enough to understand it, because the fangirls would like me to be, but you wouldn't, because you are a Quidditch- and Harry-crazed slag. Oh, and it's also why you sound merely curious as opposed to the amusingly rhyming furious and your wand is not out of your pocket and pointed at – SWEET MOTHER OF GOD!"

Ginny moved her hand forward as if she were punching him, and thought something very hard in her head.

Nothing happened.

Draconis laughed. "The shield charm! It works! I am magicaaaaaaaaaaaaaallll so I can do aaaaaaaaanything—"

"Next you'll be telling me you _know_ everything, too – wait, you already did."

"Anyway, it's fanon. Fanon does wonders. It makes me tall and attractive and part-veela and anything else a girl could ever want."

"You said you were those things already. You also said that if I ever saw you in the sunlight, you would sparkle."

"Well, that too. But you won't. Because I'm _the real person_ during the day. Except not. Gosh, why is this so confusing?"

"Love is a many-trousered thing." Ginny said this quite casually, then clapped a hand over her mouth. "Wait, I wasn't thinking anything like that! And it doesn't fit into the conversation!" She then frowned and glared at her hand. "And I'm not the type to clap my hand over my mouth."

Draconis smirked. "I almost forgot that: Everything about me is contagious, especially fanon. That trouser thing was just plagiarism. It's left over from a past life of mine that involved a lot of wanking on the part of the owner and ended up traumatizing the few people watching that still maintained some logic."

"Wait. I thought you came into existence when lightening struck my house."

"That's the cover story."

"Uhuh…" She grimaced a little in confusion.

"See, I am really made of desire."

"I thought you were just a veela or a werewolf or something. Or infinitely ginger phased."

"Shhhhhh; for that to be true, logic would need to be involved. I say things that can't possibly make sense because they should."

"…Like that."

"Yes. Like what I just said."

There was a pause, and then his lips smashed onto hers and his tongue was caressing the roof of her mouth. They parted a year later and Ginny tried to slap him, but his hand caught hers and gently brought it down.

"And I have to kiss you frequently, too. But we never get to shag. I am severely disappointed about that."

"Wait, you're on a job?"

"Yes. I mentioned that during the bit with the plagiarism."

"I thought that there was infinite—"

"I told you five minutes ago that there was no logic!"

"…So how did I forget? I don't understand this—"

"There are two reasons," Draconis said, still holding onto her hand that had almost slapped him. "First, there isn't continuity, either. And second…"

They kissed again. Ginny forgot to come back with something violent this time.

"Actually, it's three."

"Third whatever," she hotly whispered in a voice much higher pitched than her own, claiming his lips again.

---

"The fanon is definitely affecting you," Draconis grumbled. Ginny was half-kneeling before him and unbuttoning his tie while unknotting his shirt; exactly how she did these paradoxical things was imprecisely known.

It was rather telling that he was doing absolutely nothing to stop her.

"Forget stupid things like _words_!" Ginny demanded. "The only thing that matters in the world is sex and Quidditch. I thought you of all people would understand that!"

"Wait, this isn't going correctly at all—"

"I swallow," Ginny flatteringly insisted, batting her eyelashes in a very pathetic way.

"I prefer handjobs."

"Oh, the horror! You'll survive."

"Um, it's of vital importance that we're both virgins?"

"Technical virginity is a wonderful thing."

"I doubt you possess so much as that."

"Want to find out?" she asked with a smirk.

"No. Well, yes… but I prefer my tarts without syphilis on top of God knows what else."

"Could you ever respond to a question without needless snark?"

"I would, but I'm paralyzed with not caring very much."

Ginny got up and put her hands on her hips. "That was plagiarism." She seemed to have reclaimed her normal demeanor to a certain extent. Draconis concealed his relief with a smirk.

"How could you tell?"

"I took a small step, and conclusions there were."

"Oooh, fighting plagiarism with plagiarism! How mature! I'm so scared!"

"Go to hell. Now."

"You aren't allowed to talk about eternal suffering. I'm a _vampire_. Sort of."

"I thought vampireness meant that you sparkled." There was a pause, and then Ginny looked very confused. "Hey, wait, do you even drink blood?"

"Um." Draconis had never thought this through. "…Maybe?"

"Because if you do, that's so sexy," she whispered, falling back into her half-falsetto and leaning on his chest.

"Curses," Draconis muttered.

-------------------------------------


End file.
